Jacy's Got a Gun
Jacy watched their Engineer taking another ass whooping to the face and wondered that he didn’t feel as bad as she did. In the end he came out victorious, but it was touch and go. She moved up to take his vacated position near the ramp and kept looking to the Captain for an indication that they were to get involved dealing with the three other Sun-on-Yee. So far no shots had been fired and Jacy didn’t want to be the first to pull the trigger, but she didn’t want anyone on this side of the altercation to get shot either. That would make their medic nearly indispensable. The pain in Jacy’s mouth and head was manageable so she was feeling focused and ready for anything. She could almost feel the smugness seeping through the medbay walls of Aello having an exaggerated opinion of herself all the way from here. Fortunately for Jacy she could read, write and speak English, like most educated adults, so she was able to read the label on the medication she’d taken; that included the name of the drug along with it’s directions to take it with food and water. That Aello had not tried to interfere told her one of two things. Taking all four pills at once would not kill Jacy. Which made sense, it was essentially aspirin. Or Aello just didn’t give a fuck about anyone enough to interfere and prevent them from committing fatal blunders. Probably both. Jacy and Aello had definitely gotten off on the wrong foot, but the compassionless medic had made no efforts to remedy that and seemed disposed to keep it that way, in fact making small jabs along the way to draw a further wedge between them. Accept, Aello wasn’t always heartless and callous; Jacy had seen the healer’s resting bitch face slip long enough to interact with the stowaways in a kind manner. That kindness just didn’t extend to others as far as Jacy could see. What had happened to the medic/missionary to cause her to act this way? What series of ordeals had she been through to turn her into the person she was today? Jacy’s imagination went to wild places; she pictured Aello being forcibly drafted into clandestine military black-op factions who were more interested in using her as a sex slave than utilizing an extensive medical training. Nah, that was too preposterous; sure Aello was attractive enough for it and Jacy knew physical enticement had its uses, but medical training was a far more valuable skill than general seduction or submission. Maybe Aello wasn’t as skilled in the medical field as Jacy had assumed? That would explain a reluctance to interfere, but no that couldn’t be it; Jacy had seen her expertly patch up Gill and had herself been patched up by Aello when she’d staged an elaborate trap for anyone boarding the Clover, be they pirate, rescue or Reavers. One thing was certain, this ship wasn’t big enough for Aello’s head and Jacy’s bungling. Either Jacy was getting canned or Aello was getting the boot; Jacy didn’t see how it could end any other way. That was partially the motivating factor behind Jacy’s getting involved in the defense of the ship or crew or cargo or whatever it was these thugs were looking to get out of this whole fiasco. She looked again at Keller and had a momentary appreciation of the image he struck; Stetson firmly on head, lowered over his eyes with a hand at his hip ready to draw down on someone. It was too bad he saw her as La-loyd, the bumbling idiot of a good for nothing deckhand. Perhaps there would be time to change that perception, after the dental surgery and some healing up of course. And after these goons outside were sorted. “What is it to be, Captain Keller? If you would like to give the word, I could take the three of them out of the fight from here. There’d be no need to deliver unto them fatalities.” She gave her pistol a practiced twirl and sighted it down the line at the nearest Sun-on Yee.